


Must Love Dogs

by cm (mumblemutter)



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Blind Date, Community: kink_bingo, Incest, M/M, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 12:36:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/887352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumblemutter/pseuds/cm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The hardest trick is making them stay. (Or: Thor tries online dating.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Must Love Dogs

It's Sif's brilliant idea.

"We have a new client who runs a dating website. I need to test their product out - and I really don't want to sign up myself," she says. "Come on, be my guinea pig."

She uploads his photo, one of him smiling at the camera while holding on to her new puppy. The puppy's pawing at Thor's shirt, so you can see a sliver of skin above the waistband of his jeans. "It's so you don't look so threatening," Sif tells him. "Guy with puppy - they're going to be surprised that you're actually better looking than in the photo. That rarely happens."

"It doesn't seem fair to them," Thor says. "I'm not interested in a relationship."

"You're single, wealthy and handsome. I doubt it will be much hardship for them." She clicks on Preferences. "Blonde, brunette, age range, body type. Male, female, both."

"Brunette, don't care, don't care." He pauses. "Both."

Sif raises a delicate brow. "All right," she says. "You're all set up. Now we wait."

-

The first date is with a tiny girl, all nervous energy and overly friendly smile. "I've read about you," she says. "Didn't think you were the type to need an online dating service. I mean, heirs to business empires usually date princesses and stuff."

"I don't need a princess," Thor says, and offers her his best smile just so she'll relax some.

She blushes, fully pink.

He doesn't take her to bed, doesn't promise her another date or a phone call. She seems disappointed with both.

"She was nice," he tells Sif.

"But? You had a seventy-eight percent compatibility rate."

"Not looking for a relationship," Thor repeats.

Sif looks unconvinced.

-

The next person is a guy: pale, dark-haired and blue-eyed. "We can just hook-up," he says, after an hour of telling Thor how great he is.

Thor almost says, "No thanks," but then he drinks another couple of glasses of wine and says, "Sure, where do you stay?"

"You keep checking your phone," the guy says. "Expecting an important message or something?"

"I -" Thor puts the phone down, forces himself to let it go. "Not at all. Come on, let's go."

"You going to see him again?" Sif asks over lunch.

"I don't think so." Thor orders the steak, lobster for Sif.

"What was the sex like?"

"That's personal," Thor says. And then he says, "Dirty." Which sounds better than perfunctory and boring.

Sif looks intrigued, but Thor changes the subject, and she lets it drop with a shrug of her shoulder.

"How many more dates do I have to go on," Thor asks.

"Just a few more."

"What do I get in return?"

"Sex and my undying gratitude?"

"With you?"

Sif grins. "Doesn't that always end badly?"

"It does."

-

He's late for work the next day, late for the meeting. The empty chair next to his draws a glare from Odin, and then a questioning look in his direction.

Thor merely shrugs: he knows nothing.

The meeting drones on, and at some point he checks out, pretends he's doing important work on his phone instead of checking personal email.

There are three more matches. Thor turns down two, almost does the third as well, but pauses at the personal message sent to his inbox. It says: "Bet that puppy's not even yours. Dinner?"

The guy's personal profile is only one line: _Puppies are overrated._ Every other option is an "undecided" or "choose not to reveal".

Thor accepts.

-

He chooses an out of the way place. Good beer, good food, but certainly not anywhere someone might be taking pictures, not anywhere he will be recognized. The place is dimly lit, booths hidden in corners.

He orders first, waits for almost half an hour before his date shows up. Thor glances at his watch. "You're late," he says.

"Yes." He slides into the booth and grins, all teeth and very little cheer. Black leather jacket, white t-shirt that does nothing to hide how thin his shoulders are. "Loki," he says. "I'm Loki."

"Thor," Thor says. "Odi-"

"I know who you are, Thor. This false modesty thing, where you pretend most people don't already know who you are, does it work?"

Thor allows himself a smile. "I'm hardly Brad Pitt. Very often people genuinely don't know who I am."

"Self-deprecation. I suppose it beats arrogance."

"Hey," Thor says. "Let's start over. You're late. I accept your apology. I'm Thor, it's nice to meet you, Loki. I took the liberty of ordering, but we can change the order if you like, I told them to wait. This is my fourth beer, so I probably shouldn't drive tonight. I would appreciate if you could remember that when I decide I can."

Loki looks as if he's been startled into a smile, says, "I didn't apologize." He glances around. "This is French?"

"Sort of."

"Not exactly Le Bernardin, is it? Considering how much you're worth."

"I didn't want to make any assumptions that I would be welcome to pick up the tab."

"Assumptions," Loki says, and there's a faintly mocking tone in his voice.

"We can split it."

Loki leans over the table instead of answering, picks up Thor's half-empty beer bottle and puts it to his lips. Thor watches the pale line of his throat as he swallows, but is distracted, thankfully, by the arrival of the waitress, asking him if he's ready to be served or change his order.

Loki puts the bottle down, gives her a smile that looks genuine. "Yes, we are. And no need to amend the order, I've heard that Mr. Odinson is a man of impeccable taste."

Confusion flashes across her face briefly, but she recovers quickly. "Right away, sir."

"So, what do you do, Loki," Thor asks, once the waitress has moved on.

"This and that. I'm sort of in-between jobs at the moment."

"Your profile said you have an MBA from Harvard. That's about the only thing on your profile, other than your dislike of cute furry creatures."

"I heard you dropped out from the same program. I suppose one doesn't need much of an education when one's future is already guaranteed."

"The food here's great," Thor says. He takes back his beer, lifts a finger for the waitress to bring Loki his own. "Try the bread."

When Loki's beer arrives, he switches the bottle with Thor's. "I've already started drinking it. I've grown attached."

"It happens."

"So," Loki says, abruptly switching the subject. "What's a guy like you need a dating site for, anyway?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Me? Do I look like the type of guy that gets dates easily?"

"You look like the type of guy I'd take home, yeah."

"Maybe your standards are just low."

"Who's being falsely modest now?"

Loki merely licks his lips in response.

"I did it on a dare," Thor says.

"So I'm just wasting my time here? You are not actually looking for a relationship." He stands, starts to slide out of the booth. Thor catches his wrist.

"I didn't say that."

"If this is some kind of a game to you -"

"It's a game, but that's not what I said. Sit down."

"You're an oaf. Don't touch me again."

Thor releases him, says, "Sit down, please." After a moment, Loki sits back down.

He pulls the sleeve of his jacket up, says, mild, "I hope that doesn't bruise."

Thor almost apologizes, but in the end he doesn't. Loki must notice, the corner of his mouth quirks up slightly.

When the food comes, Loki glances at the laden table, says, "Someone's hungry. And a lot of meat. What if I were a vegetarian?"

"Then this date would be over."

"So you do have standards, after all."

"Just taste."

Loki snorts, and continues to look deeply unimpressed. He does pick up his fork though, and gamely tucks into a plate of escargot smothered in garlic butter. He pokes at a shell, says, "They probably picked these up from the garden in their backyard."

"Would you be in a better mood if we had met somewhere else?"

"I would be in a better mood if I could get another beer."

"You can have mine."

Thor runs his fingers through his hair as Loki says, "I've read various gossip columns. You're quite the topic of conversation. Always about which hot young socialite you're dating. Guess they haven't quite got you pegged."

"I like girls too," Thor says, faintly defensive. "I don't discriminate."

"No, you wouldn't," and now he sounds irritated, heading towards annoyed. "Must be nice, to always get what you want."

"I don't always get what I want."

Loki glances up, sharp, before lowering his gaze downwards, his lashes dark against his cheek. "As if you've ever had to struggle for anything."

"Yeah, because responsibility's so easy, right? Some of us don't have choices."

"And some of us aren't even given the opportunities, no matter how much we might deserve them."

He slams his fork down, but Thor's done anyway. "So this was a terrible fucking idea."

"Yes, it was," Loki says.

They stare at each other.

"I was actually starting to have a good time," Loki says, righting his fork. "And the food's not so bad."

"For garden snails?"

"Well fed garden snails."

Thor allows himself a small smile, "So what's wrong with puppies?"

"They're too eager for attention, they slobber all over you and aren't house-trained. Name me one good thing about puppies, other than some of them grow up to be useful work dogs."

"They're cute. And unconditional love is always a plus."

Loki points his fork at Thor. "Love is overrated. Cuteness is - in the eye of the beholder. I'll pass on both."

The entrées arrive, which spares them another brewing argument over defenseless animals that Thor has no real feelings about. They seem to like him a fair bit, or at least Sif's puppy does. "It's my friend's puppy," Thor says, as he sits back and watches Loki eat. "I just posed for the picture."

Loki doesn't show any inclination that he cares one way or another. He takes another bite of the food, says, "This restaurant's not half bad."

"Is that a compliment? Wow, and we're only halfway through the meal. There's a whole cheese plate left to think of another."

"I could tell you I think you'd be a hot fuck, would that work?"

Thor takes a sip of his beer, smiles. "Getting there."

They make it to the dessert, when Loki takes a bite of his creme brûlée, declares it inedible, and says, "Let's go for a ride."

"I can't drive."

"And I'm clearly not suited for driving, whatever shall we do?"

Thor follows him outside, shivers in the cold air until Loki reaches a wicked Ducati and hands him a helmet. Thor whistles, asks, "Is this new?"

"You're ruining it."

"Loki -"

"Get on the fucking bike, Thor."

"All right."

Loki rides like a madman, someone chased by imaginary demons. Thor wraps his arms around his waist, presses himself close. He doesn't have much of a choice, or so he tells himself. Loki only stops when they're far out the city, pulls over near the uninviting chain link fence of a power station.

Thor gets off the bike, removes his helmet and hands it to Loki to hang them both off the handlebars. "Come on," Thor says, walking backwards until he hits the fence.

"You're lucky that's not electrified." He does as he's told though, saunters forward until they're close enough to touch. "Presumptive," he says, and he's still smirking.

"Well you did take me to -" Thor pauses, glances around. "A really romantic spot. There is some expectation."

Loki's smirk fades away. "Then you expect too much."

Thor folds his fist into the thin material of Loki's t-shirt, drags him nearer. "Only what you're willing to give. Kiss me, hey."

"Not on the first date."

Thor ignores him, twines his free hand into his hair to drag him forward. He kisses Loki with some desperation, fucks his mouth until they're both panting by the time they break apart. Even Loki looks faintly dazed, but surely his heart isn't beating as fast as Thor's is.

Loki bends his head, bites down on Thor's jaw hard enough that Thor knows it will leave a bruise that he'll have to explain away. Amorous female is his usual spiel - he's not proud, but it's about believability, or so he's heard often enough. "Ow," Thor says, mild.

"Pussy."

Loki trails his fingers down Thor's face, past his throat to skitter under his shirt. He undoes the top button of Thor's jeans and Thor says, "Not on the first date."

"You don't look like the kind of guy who says no a lot."

Loki undoes the last of Thor's buttons, tugs his cock out. Thor reaches for Loki, but Loki says, "Hands on the fence," and so Thor grips the cold metal links in his fingers instead. "Also, underwear?"

"They get in the way," Thor says. "I'm not the kind of guy who says no a lot." He kisses Loki again, lazily this time.

Loki jerks him off slowly, the way that makes Thor's head spin and causes him to lose focus. He grits his teeth, and Loki hums under his breath, his attention fixed on Thor's face, until Thor says, "Fuck," and comes, arching up into Loki's hand. He pushes himself onto his knees, after a moment, and buries his face in Loki's jeans. The scent of engine-oil and metal, and Thor looks up, beams.

Loki just pets his head, idly, says, "Get on with it, then."

"You shouldn't smoke," Thor says afterward, watching Loki settle against the bike.

Loki turns his head, blows smoke into Thor's face. "I only started because you did."

"Yeah, then Dad found out."

It wasn't a good month for either of their stupid, teenaged selves. Thor dealt with the brunt of it, being the older, presumably wiser.

"That's the difference between the two of us," Loki says. "You always learn your lesson eventually."

"You should come home," Thor says.

"Why?"

"Because I want you to," Thor says. "You can crash with me."

"He'll know. I won't give him the satisfaction." Thor takes the cigarette from Loki's lips, crushes it beneath his boot. Loki sighs. "I'm going to put feedback on your profile, tell everyone how easy you are."

"To encourage or deter potential suitors?"

"Depends on the person, I suppose."

Thor lowers his head, nuzzles at Loki's shoulder. "Come home for the night at least. I'll show you exactly how easy I am."

Loki hesitates. "All right," he says finally.

-

Sif asks, "So how was your date? Did you find your perfect match?"

"There's no such thing," Thor says.

He checks his phone. There's one message waiting unread.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the **vanilla kink** square.


End file.
